


Huggy's Game

by SPowell



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Post Sweet Revenge, first encounter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 10:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Huggy decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Huggy's Game

**Author's Note:**

> Rated R  
> Slash  
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters written about here  
> Post SR  
> 

Huggy Bear stood surveying the patrons of his bar. He’d dressed his lanky frame reservedly, for him, in a red silk shirt, beige bell-bottomed pants, and a multi-colored vest. Business was booming, and he felt good.

Nearby, two of his best friends in the world played pool, their good-natured ribbing occasionally heard above the din of the crowd.

“Starsk, are you gonna shoot, or swing your ass around the pool table again?” the blond asked disgustedly, watching his partner try to line up a shot.

Huggy glanced over at Starsky stalking the pool table, swagger intact after long months of physical therapy, body hard and fit once again. Seeing him looking so good squeezed at the man’s heart, because there were no better friends to Huggy than David Starsky and his partner Kenneth Hutchinson. He wanted nothing more than their complete and utter happiness.

“Cheryl,” he called his head waitress over to him. “I’m gonna close up a little early. See if you can get rid of these stragglers---except for Starsky and Hutch, of course.”

“Sure, Huggy,” Cheryl replied, and hurried off.

Huggy’s eyes shifted to look at Hutch, who stood casually leaning on a pool cue, his eyes taking in every move his partner made. He looked better than he had in years; super fit, tanned, mustache gone, and blond hair trimmed, curling at the nape. Huggy enjoyed seeing the two friends laughing and joking, particularly after the difficult year they’d had.

“Starsky! Hutch!” Huggy interrupted their game and motioned them to the bar.

“You closin’ up early or somethin’?” Starsky asked, making his way between the tables and watching the place clear out. “I was just about to beat the pants off Hutch at pool.”

Hutch, just behind him, rolled his eyes, signifying Starsky was exaggerating heavily. “You wish, numbskull.”

“Yeah, I’m closin’ a bit early tonight.” Huggy answered. “Listen, I need a favor.” Leaning on the bar, his face a little hang-dog, he spelled it out. “I got some heavy shit goin’ down right now, and I’m expecting an important phone call in the morning. I’m in need of a little distraction, and I wondered if you two would hang with me here for a while.” During this little speech, Starsky noted Huggy kept one hand on his stomach, rubbing at it lightly, as if it pained him.

The two cops looked at each other and back at Huggy. It wasn’t often that he asked a favor, and they knew that they all-too-often asked one of him. And that it was very rare that he didn’t come through.

“’Course we will, Hug!” Starsky assured him, slapping his hand on the bar. “An’ we’re off tomorrow, so we can stay as late as you want.”

“That’s the last one, Huggy!” Cheryl called, slipping on her rain coat. “We’re going out the back—I’ll lock up!”

“Thanks, Cheryl!” Huggy smiled, waving. Hutch took the keys out of Huggy’s hand and went and locked the front doors for him.

“Cool,” Huggy Bear said, accepting the keys.  “A couple more beers? On the house.”

They nodded, and Huggy poured, bringing them to a table.

“You want to talk about it, Hug?” Hutch asked when they were all seated.

“Actually, no. I just want a little distraction, and you two are the most distracting people I know.” He looked at the swarthy brunet. “How is it to be back on the streets with Goldilocks, here, Starsky?”

Starsky leaned back in his chair, his mug of beer balanced on his knee, a 100 watt smile on his tanned face. “Terrific! Those crooks don’t stand a chance with us out there together again, do they, partner?”

“Not a chance,” Hutch agreed, taking a long drink from his mug and showing no outward signs of the fragile man he’d been just a year ago when his partner lay dying from multiple gun shot wounds.

“That’s good, that’s good,” Huggy sighed. He drank some beer and ate a few peanuts from the bowl on the table, noting that the bond between the two men seemed stronger than ever.  _It’s no wonder, when Hutch's hardly left Starsky’s side since the shooting._

“Say,” he replied after a moment, his hand rubbing at his stomach again. “You know what would be real distracting for me?” He looked expectantly at his two friends. When they stared back at him questioningly, he continued, “A little game. How ‘bout Truth or Dare?”

Hutch made a face. “Isn’t that a little childish?”

Huggy looked pained, and Starsky gave his partner a meaningful glare.

“Sure, Truth or Dare sounds like fun. I haven’t played that in a long time,” Starsky enthused.

“I haven’t played Tiddly Winks in a long time, either, but you don’t see me…Ouch!” Hutch rubbed his shin and glared at Starsky.

“How you play again, Hug?”

“Simple. I just say to you, Starsky—truth or dare. An’ you pick one.”

“Okay, well, truth.”

Huggy smiled. “Here’s your question---but you gotta answer the god’s honest truth. That’s the rule.”

“Okay, okay, I’m game. You guys are my closest friends—what can’t I tell you?”

Huggy considered a moment. “How many women have you had sex with?” he asked.

“Two hundred and fifty-three… and a half,” Starsky answered right away.

Huggy and Hutch stared at him, open-mouthed.

“First of all,” Hutch began, “how did you come up with that number so fast?”

“Easy, I been countin’.”

“Like notches on your bed post?” Hutch raised a brow.

“No, I just like keepin’ track of stuff, is all.” Starsky took a handful of peanuts and flipped one up in the air, catching it in his mouth.

“That’s a lot of women, Starsk. In how many years? Let’s see…you’re 38, and you probably lost your virginity at what, 16?”

“Thirteen,” Starsky corrected, flinging another peanut.

“Thirteen…” Hutch frowned. “That’s twenty-five years…” He snagged a pen out of Huggy’s vest pocket.

“Aw, don’t start your calculatin'!” Starsky objected.

Huggy leaned forward. “What I want to know is, what’s the half?”

Hutch looked up from where he was trying to do math on a cocktail napkin. “That’s a good question! Half of sex, or half of…a woman?” He and Huggy looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“I’d say that’s another ‘truth’ entirely,” Starsky replied stiffly. “Now, whose turn is it? Yours, Hug?”

“I’m just watching. It’s Hutch’s turn. You wanna ask him one, or me, Starsky?”

Starsky thought about it, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t even think of asking me the same question,” Hutch said, pointing a rigid finger at him, “because I haven’t kept track since I was 25. Plus I’ve been married, which cuts out a few years.”

Starsky sat, chin on palm, beringed pinkie finger tapping at the side of his mouth. “Hmmm…”

“Well, if you can’t conjure one up, I can,” Huggy said. “Hutch, have you ever been to bed with a man?”

Hutch sat up straight. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A good one,” Huggy replied, slouching down in his chair and staring at him. Starsky raised an eyebrow, a smirk working at the corners of his mouth.

Hutch looked around for an escape.

“Hutch? Is that your answer?” Starsky asked. “Looks like a ‘yes’ to me, Huggy.”

“Now wait a minute, define ‘been to bed’,” Hutch demanded.

“Seems self-explanatory,” Starsky said.

“If it is, that means being in the bed…”

“Oh no, he’s thinking too much,” Starsky rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “ _Had sex_ , Hutch. That’s what Huggy means. Any kind.”

Hutch crossed his arms over his chest. “I hate this game.”

He looked at his friends, sighed. “Okay, yes.”

It was Huggy’s turn to smirk, and Starsky sat up in his chair, put down the beer, and slapped his thighs. “You’re  _kiddin’!_ I would never have guessed that in a million years! Who was it? When? How?”

“I’ve answered my question,” Hutch replied, red-faced. “Now it’s your turn. What do you mean by half…”

“Dare!” Starsky called, a little too loudly.

“The man wants a dare,” Huggy replied, taking the pitcher and refilling their mugs with beer.

“An’ it can’t be anything that would get me in trouble, like running outside naked. I ain’t doin’ that.”

“Okay,” Hutch said, a bit evilly. “Call Dobey and tell him you’ve been meaning to tell him what a great captain he is.”

“What?” Starsky sputtered. “It’s one o’clock in the mornin’! He’ll kill me!”

“That just makes it better,” Hutch said smugly, sipping his beer.

Huggy motioned Starsky to the phone on the bar.

“But…” Starsky looked from Huggy to Hutch and back again.

“You did choose the dare,” Hutch said, and Huggy nodded agreement.

With a sigh, Starsky slumped over to the bar, picked up the receiver, and dialed Dobey’s number.

They could hear Dobey bark hello all the way across the room.

“Uh, hi, Cap’n, this is Starsky.”

Starsky winced and held the phone away from his ear as Dobey gave him hell for calling so late.

“Sorry, Cap’n, but this couldn’t wait.” He looked over at Hutch and Huggy, licked his lips, and continued determinedly, “I just want to tell you what an upstanding Captain I think you are.” He held the phone away again, and Huggy and Hutch could plainly hear Dobey yell, “Starsky, are you drunk?!”

“No, I’m sober as your great granny, Cap’n. Just needed to call and tell you what a fine man you are. Okay, goodnight!” He hung up, and strode to the table, chin to his chest. Plopping down, he glared at Hutch. “I just hope you choose dare next! If Dobey didn’t like that, he won’t appreciate another one!”

Hutch looked appropriately worried.

“Maybe I should hand out the dares,” Huggy suggested. “I don’t want anyone to get fired on account of my little game. Hutch, truth or dare?”

“Uh…” he looked at Starsky. "Truth.”

Starsky glared at Huggy, silently begging him for information about the gay sex, but Huggy asked, “Have you ever had a sexual fantasy about Starsky?”

Hutch came out of his chair. “Huggy, what’re you playin’ at?”

Huggy huffed up like a scalded cat and started to rise. “Seems like my little game is too much to ask! Not like I haven’t come through for you two I don’t know how many times in the past!”

Starsky gave Hutch a meaningful look, and he settled back in his chair.

“What’s a little truth among friends?” Starsky asked. He leaned forward, elbow on the table. “Answer the question, Hutch.”

“And don’t lie,” Huggy said, relaxing a little. “We’ll be able to tell. You get all red and start stuttering.”

Hutch took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring. “Yes,” he gritted out. “And that’s all I’m saying. I answered the question.”

Starsky let out a hoot of glee. “Didn’t know I was such a sex god! Even my partner lusts after me!”

Hutch shot him a withering look.

Huggy turned his attention to the smug brunet. “Okay, Starsky, truth or dare?”

Starsky seemed to be weighing his options, and coming up short. Stalling for time, he took a long drink of beer. “Er, truth, I guess,” he finally said.

Hutch smiled, hoping he’d get an answer to the “half” question.

“Same question,” Huggy said. “Ever had a sexual fantasy about Hutch?”

“Of course not!” Starsky sputtered. Huggy raised a brow and gave him a look. “Okay, yeah.” He slumped down in his chair.

Hutch smiled. “Who’s the sex god now?”

“I assume a lot of men have those about their friends,” Starsky reasoned.

”I can tell you I haven’t had any about you two!” Huggy scoffed. “Okay, Hutch, your turn.”

Hutch, a little tired of the truths he’d had to tell that night, chose a dare this time.

Huggy smiled wickedly. “Kiss Starsky on the mouth.”

“What?!” Hutch exclaimed.

Huggy cocked his shoulder in a half shrug. “So sue me; I’m kinky.”

Hutch looked at Starsky, a bit panicked.

“Huggy…” Starsky started to intervene, but Huggy grimaced, his hand going to his stomach. Meeting Hutch’s eyes, Starsky said, “Go-wan. What’s the big deal?”

Hutch sighed, looked around like there might be someone else watching in the empty bar, leaned forward, and lightly pressed his lips to Starsky’s, pulling away quickly. His partner’s eyes glittered with amusement. “That was really somethin’, Hutch. I can see why the ladies love ya.”

Hutch turned a dark red and gave all his attention to drinking his beer.

Huggy topped off the mugs. “Starsky?”

Starsky looked at him as though surprised it was his turn again so soon. “Tr-truth.” He nodded his head, waiting.

Hutch looked to Huggy, but he didn’t even glance his way. Crossing his legs and casually propping his arm on the back of his chair, he asked, “What was the fantasy you had about Hutch?”

“Dare, I mean dare!” Starsky backpedaled.

“Uh, uh, uh. Can’t do that.”

Huggy surveyed his two friends. Hutch resembled the cat that swallowed the canary, while Starsky looked more like a man about to be given a prostate exam by a Hell’s Angel.

“This game is stupid,” Starsky grumbled, drinking his beer to the mid-way point before clearing his throat and adjusting his courage.

“Well…see, we’re on this stakeout.”

Hutch’s brow rose high, and a rumble of laughter escaped his throat.

“Shuddup, Hutch, or I ain’t tellin’!”

“Go on, Starsky,” Huggy encouraged, his fingers moving lightly over his mid-section. “Don’t mind Blondie, he just doesn’t want you to know how fascinatin’ he finds the subject, dig?”

Hutch shot Huggy a scalding look, and Starsky grinned, warming up to the attention.

“Okay, we’re on this stakeout, like I said. It’s been a long night, and nothin’s happening. It’s real hot. We’ve got the windows of the Torino down, but there’s no wind blowin’.” Starsky looked off in the distance, wrapped up in his own description. “Hutch’s got this big cuppa ice…’cause he drank all the water in it. He takes a piece out, leans back his head, and rubs it up and down his neck…”

Hutch shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the subject matter, yet intrigued nonetheless.

“Go on,” Huggy prompted.

Starsky bit his lip. “All of a sudden, he turns to me and…”

The bar resonated with the heavy silence hanging in the air as Starsky took a long pause. The whole scenario ran through Hutch’s head like a movie.

“and?” he prompted hoarsely.

“and…and…” Starsky shrugged. “kisses me. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Hug asked, skeptically. “Ya call that a fantasy?”

“Well, it’s a really good kiss,” Starsky explained. “Really…gentle at first. Then kinda…frenzied.” He met Hutch’s eyes quickly, then looked down.

Hutch sat back and blinked slowly.

“Hutch?” Huggy prompted.

“Yeah.”

“Truth or dare?”

Hutch’s head gave a small jerk, and he started breathing again. “Uh…well, um.” He looked at his watch.

“No way, Hutch, we got all night,” Starsky commanded, shifting a little in his seat. “Tell the man.”

Hutch swallowed. “Okay, truth, I guess.”

Huggy smiled. “Same question. What’s your fantasy about this fine specimen of a partner of yours?”

Hutch sighed, having known what the question would be before it formed in Huggy’s mouth. Knowing it would do no good to lie, he rubbed his index finger across his mouth, met Starsky’s eyes for a moment, then looked away. “It starts out in Dobey’s office.”

“Dobey’s office!” Starsky howled. Huggy shot him a cutting look, and he subsided, taking a long drink of his beer. He had a good buzz going and was beginning to enjoy this little game of theirs. He couldn’t resist adding, “Hey, Dobey’s not involved in this, is he, ‘cause I don’t think I could keep my beer down if he is…”

Hutch skewered him with a glance, then began again. “We are in Dobey’s office, and we’re waiting for him to come in and ream us out…”

“Is that what they’re callin’ it these days?” Huggy asked, and he and Starsky snickered into their beers. Huggy was still working on his first, but he poured the last of the pitcher into Starsky’s mug.

“You wanna hear this, or not?” Hutch seethed.

“Okay, okay, no more interruptin’, promise,” Starsky crossed his finger over his chest, leaned back, and smirked mightily.

It occurred to Hutch that nobody had said he had to go into any great detail, so he rushed on, “Starsky slams me over Dobey’s desk, rips my pants down, and fucks the hell out of me.” He grabbed his beer, downing the last half in several long gulps.

Starsky spewed his drink and sat wide-eyed, unable to speak. Huggy rolled his eyes to the side, pursed his lips, and then nodded his head.

After a pause, he looked at Starsky and asked matter-of-factly, “Truth or dare, Starsky?”

It took Starsky several long seconds to reply, and when he did, his voice was hoarse. “Dare.”

“So, do it,” Huggy said.

Starsky looked at him. “Do it?”

“Well, we don’t have a desk, but you can use that table over there. Slam Hutch over it, rip his pants down, and fuck the hell outta him.”

Starsky was completely silent. Hutch made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a hiccup.

Starsky pulled his eyes from Huggy, looked at Hutch, and then back at Huggy.

“Wha?”

Huggy broke into a grin. “Just kiddin’. Man, you shoulda seen your face. I may be kinky, but I ain’t  _that_ kinky!”

Starsky let out a long breath, smiled, then chuckled weakly. “Phew, Huggy, you had me goin’ there a minute. Hutch?”

“Yeah,” Hutch’s throat had lost all lubrication. Quickly, he took a drink of Starsky's beer, loosening his collar with one finger, and shifting in his chair.

“Let me refill this pitcher, brothas, before I give you the real dare, Starsky.” Huggy stood up and went across the room to the bar. Hutch looked at his partner.

“This is crazy!” Hutch whispered.

“Hey, we’re entertaining him. He’s obviously waitin’ on some test results or something. How many times has Huggy come through for us, Hutch?”

Starsky didn’t have to say anymore for Hutch to give in. He well-remembered Huggy’s support during the time he’d been beaten and hooked on heroin against his will. Huggy had hidden him in his upstairs room and, along with his partner, catered to his every need through a very painful withdrawal. If that had been the only thing the man had ever done for him, it would have been more than enough for Hutch to owe him big time.

“What’s the harm, Hutch?” Starsky continued. “We’re all friends here. It’s all in fun.” He winked, and Hutch slowly smiled and nodded.

Huggy returned with a full pitcher and refilled their mugs.

“Where were we?” Huggy asked, taking his seat again. “Oh, yes, Starsky’s dare. Hmmm….” He drummed his long, dark fingers on the table top, considering. “How about a better kiss than your partner gave you?”

“Better?” Starsky asked.

“As in…more like the way you’d kiss a chick than your momma.”

“Huggy, are you sure…” Starsky began, but Huggy suddenly looked pained. His face distorted, and he clasped his stomach. “Just a minute, compadres,” he groaned, holding up a hand. After a few seconds, he relaxed. “Okay, as you were saying, Starsky?”

“Um, nothin’.” Starsky leaned over and, grabbing Hutch by the collar, kissed him full on the mouth, pushing past his lips with a questing tongue. Hutch’s eyes opened wide, and when his partner let go of him, he fell back in his chair, dumbfounded.

“I’m impressed, Starsky!” Huggy said, nodding his head appreciatively. “That was some kiss you laid on Blondie, there. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Starsky, his competitive nature coming to the fore, looked very pleased with himself.

“Hutch? Truth or dare?”

Hutch opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Either choice could be a disaster. Finally, he murmured, “Truth.”

Huggy smiled. “About that gay encounter….spill.”

Starsky perked up, all ears. Taking a long swig of beer, Hutch slouched back in his chair and started to speak.

“And don’t gloss over it too much,” Huggy directed.

Hutch sighed. “Well, it was in college, and a bunch of us guys were together, talking shit about girls and watching porn. We were all getting really horny, and kind of drunk.” Hutch looked away.

“And?” Starsky prodded. “What did you do? Suck each other off?”

“No, I screwed some guy in the ass,” Hutch admitted.

Starsky’s jaw dropped. That was the last thing he’d expected Hutch to say. “No way!”

“Okay, I told you,” Hutch said testily, “now get on with it!”

“Truth or dare, Starsky.”

“Truth, I guess,” Starsky leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on Hutch, picturing his all-American, boy-next-door partner banging a guy from behind. His mouth went suddenly and completely dry.

“Let’s hear about your encounter,” Huggy said.

“Oh---,” Starsky snapped to attention. “It was a blow job with a kid who owed me money. He offered to do that instead, and I took him up on it. I was just 12.” He looked at Huggy and then back at Hutch. “Kind of pales in comparison, don’t it.”

Hutch was starting to sweat. Although he agreed that they owed Huggy, and he wanted to help his friend forget his troubles, he wasn’t sure if he liked the way Starsky was staring at him—kind of like he was the last onion ring in the basket. He knew his partner was probably trying to have some fun at his expense, but he’d never been as good at being cool and collected under pressure as Starsky was. Except when he was undercover, of course. Funny how that worked.

“Why don’t we play quarters?” he suggested brightly.

“Quarters!” Huggy scoffed. “Man, you’re talkin’ jive. Truth or dare.”

Hutch groaned, his eyes going to the ceiling. “Dare.”

“Okay, here it is, my blond brother. If you can outdo your partner’s last kiss, you can be in charge of his next truth or dare.”

Hutch’s eyes lit up. “Finally, you’re speaking my language. Com’ere, Starsk.”

He stood and grabbed his partner’s hand, yanking him out of his seat and against him. Looking down the two-inch difference in their heights, intent blue eyes meeting startled blue eyes, he regarded him affectionately before gently brushing his lips against Starsky’s mouth, surprised at how soft and malleable it was, nibbling a little on the lower lip before tilting his head and deepening the kiss with a surge of his tongue. Starsky’s arms came up and encircled him as he hesitantly, then enthusiastically, kissed him back, sliding his own tongue against his, sending a jolt of pure lust into Hutch’s groin.

With a moan of pleasure, Hutch pulled Starsky tighter, his hands delving into his curls, his lips moving hungrily over his mouth, down his cheek and jaw, and into the soft center of his neck.

Starsky groaned, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Oh my god, Hutch…”

Hutch’s mouth traveled up to his partner’s ear, nibbling on the lobe, then he pushed his wet tongue inside the shell, causing Starsky to suck his breath in and curse, grinding his own hardness into Hutch’s.

Panting, Hutch suddenly came to himself and looked over at Huggy, who surely must think they’d gone mad. The black man was no longer there.

“Hey---” Hutch said, looking around, his arms still encircling his partner. “Where’s Huggy?”

Panting audibly, Starsky turned his head. “I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care.” Grabbing Hutch by the neck, he pulled his head back down and kissed him, his tongue rushing into his partner’s mouth like a tidal wave. Hutch backed up, his legs hitting the cushioned bench against the wall, and he sat, Starsky landing on top of him, straddling his legs. Enthralled with the feel of his partner’s wet, soft mouth sucking his tongue while his granite hard groin pressed against his own, Hutch lifted his hips and ground into him, moaning his pleasure. Head back against the cushioned seat, he rasped, “Starsk, what’s happening to us?”

Starsky growled and captured his mouth again in a hot, demanding kiss. Gyrating his hips, Starsky quickly drove Hutch over the edge, only to follow moments later with something akin to a war cry. They sat sweating and gasping into each other’s mouths, the fronts of their pants wet and sticky.

“Oh my god, Hutch! Oh my god.”

Hutch swallowed, his hands sliding off of Starsky’s waist to land boneless on the bench. “Think we drove Huggy away?” he worried, once he’d caught his breath. “That was kind of shitty of us---“

Slowly, Starsky climbed off his partner’s lap, grabbing at some napkins on the table and pushing them down the front of his jeans. Hutch followed his lead, feeling a bit like an adolescent out of control of his libido.

“I don’t know, Hutch. That whole thing---it seemed a bit contrived to me now that I think about it.” He headed toward the kitchen and looked through the double doors. “He’s gone.”

“What do you think just happened here, Starsk?” Hutch’s soft voice came from behind him. Starsky turned and looked fondly into the familiar face of his partner.

“I think---we’ve been had.”

 

The following day, Starsky and Hutch showed up at Huggy’s bar as soon as it opened.

Huggy was drying glasses, an extra towel draped casually over one shoulder. When he glanced up and saw his friends, he smiled broadly. “What it is, my brothas?”

Hutch planted his elbows on the bar. “Came to see why you cut out on us last night, Hug. We had to find your extra keys and let ourselves out.”

Starsky pulled said keys out of his pocket and set them on the bar.

“Three’s a crowd, you dig?” Huggy replied nonchalantly.

Starsky flushed. “We were there doin’ what you wanted!”

Huggy’s brow went up. “Really? Seemed to me like you were doin’ something  _you_ wanted.”

Starsky narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, and Hutch intervened.

“Hug, what about that phone call this morning? How did it go?”

“Oh, that was fine. Momma said to tell you fellas hello.”

Hutch looked at Starsky, who in turn looked at Huggy. “Your mother? The call was from your mother?”

“Yeah, she said she’d call me and let me know how her bingo game went.”

“What?” Hutch asked. “Hug, I thought you said you were expecting a call from your doctor!“

“I never said that,” Huggy replied, setting another glass down. “I said an important call. Momma’s bingo is important to her.”

“But---but…” Starsky stammered. “Your stomach! You were holding your stomach!”

“Gas,” Huggy said. “Had Mexican for dinner.”

“Didn’t you say you had some heavy shit going down?” Hutch asked him.

“Sure, don’t we all?” Huggy tossed the towel he was holding into the sink behind him. “Listen, maybe I wasn’t totally up front with you two, but I got the results I wanted. You two’ve been avoiding the issue for years now, and I, quite frankly, got sick of it. Now, I’m not sure what happened after that on-fire kiss I witnessed before I split, but if I were you, I’d take a good look at it and yourselves. You dig?” He walked away.

Hutch looked at Starsky and then at the floor. Starsky cleared his throat.

“Maybe…” he said, violet eyes questioning.

Hutch looked up at him, unsure. “Yeah, maybe…”

They both grinned at each other shyly.

“Why don’t we head on back to my place, and I’ll rustle us up some dinner,” Starsky suggested.

Hutch’s smile got bigger. “Sounds good to me. I’m suddenly starved.”

 finis


End file.
